


Love, Baz

by orphan_account



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst and Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 5,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5412305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of letters from Baz to Simon, that he probably never sent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That Perfect Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's fifth year, and Baz sees Simon and Agatha kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These characters belong to the lovely and talented Rainbow Rowell, I'm only borrowing them.

Dear Simon,

  You were so beautiful that night. Every day and every night, Simon, you were so fucking beautiful. But that was the one when I couldn’t bear it. Your every movement, every glance. I loved to make you angry, or I hated it, but what else could I do? There was nothing else to do, Simon, because there was only you. But I was me and I shouldn’t have been. I would be anyone else, if it meant could kiss you. If it meant I could think about it without burning.

  It was a beautiful night. You would have loved to see it, but you didn’t look properly, because you were looking at her. Only her. I hated it. I hated you and her. I was burning. I was on fire and I couldn’t stand it. I didn’t want to. Because I said I couldn’t, but tell me, Simon, what could I have done? I could only bear it. There was only one thing worth anything and I took what I could from being near it.

  Was that your first kiss? It would have been right, that way, you and her on a balcony at night. You only noticed the way her skin glowed and how her hair caught in the moonlight, but that night I saw it all. The perfect pair of you, framed against the full moon, leaning into each other, gazing into each others eyes. Your golden curls, your beautiful face and the beautiful arch of your back, leaning in to kiss her, reaching until there was nothing else between you. The two of you together, so perfect and so right, that was the moment I realized who you were. The Chosen One, the person you were meant to be.

  I wasn’t part of that scene, Simon. I shouldn’t have seen it, but I did. Hiding at the edge of the Wood, covered by foliage, but I could have been right next to you and you wouldn’t have seen me. It was the worst feeling in the world, Simon, knowing you were the right person and I wasn't, knowing I would never be the person you loved or kissed in that perfect, beautiful way, like I was everything. Do you know what it's like, knowing every day that you are nothing, a mistake, a wretched soulless monster? Knowing I'll always be this person. That you'll never read this.  


  Crowley, I'll be damned if you read this. I'll take this secret to my grave. I'll make sure that you're still the person you're meant to be. I'm a mess, Snow, but you have to be perfect, because only I will love you if you're not.

  And I do love you. No matter how much it hurt, that night I had to admit the truth. That I wasn't jealous of you, I was jealous of her. That I would follow you anywhere. 

                                            Love, Baz


	2. Not A Love Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz isn't in denial, he's just in frustration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of these characters (Actually this series doesn't have very many characters) belong to the lovely and talented Rainbow Rowell, I am merely borrowing them.

Dear Simon,

This isn’t a bloody love letter, Snow. I will never write you a fucking love letter, no matter what you think that last one was. I am honest, I am not sappy, and I don’t even like you. You are the single most frustrating person I have ever been sorry to meet. I’m glad you finally eased up on following me, I don’t really care if you spend time staring at her, as long as you leave me the hell alone. 

Go on a million dates. Spend every day gazing into her eyes, and watching the swish of her hair. Make ridiculous attempts to comb your hair, then kiss her. Kiss her somewhere I don’t have to see it. I don’t want to see it, Snow. I don’t want you in my life. I don’t need you, I’m fine on my own.

Do you know, Snow, that you are not the only reason I have to hate myself? You’re just too much. Go far, far far away, and leave me alone.

   ~~Love~~ , Baz


	3. Family

Dear Simon,

I'm in a good mood today, so don't fuck it up. It's not all because of break, or that fight you had, I'm above those sort of things. (And let's be honest. You're going to make up soon enough, you spend the holidays with her.) It's not because of you at all, it's because of Christmas.

Do you remember what Christmas was like as a kid? The excitement bubbling up, the strong passionate belief and the feeling, almost as good as magic? I only remember a little about Christmas with my mother, and sometimes I wonder, or worry, that I made it up. The warm feeling, (Everything was so warm then) the smiling, Mother talking about gifts and Father Christmas, Father chiding her, me laughing, and I think that was the last time I was really able to tell that he was joking about something.

Mother and Father and I, together.

I suppose it was never like that for you. I thought about that a lot, that first Christmas, about you, all alone on Christmas, at an orphanage. I used to worry, just a little, whether you got presents, whether you got to sit in front of the fire and listen to someone tell you about Father Christmas or recite poems.

And I would wonder what was worse. And I thought maybe it was worse to have it all ripped away, to be left that next Christmas all alone wondering what happened. Crying for the thousandth time. I thought it must be better to never have to feel that pain.

But I'm sure you have cried for your parents, I know you miss them. I still have a family, I'll always have some family. Now I think it must be worse to feel like you're always alone in a way.

I hope you don't feel like that right now, Simon. Wherever you are, I hope you don't feel alone.

Love, Baz

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

P.S. You didn't fuck it up, that was me. Then again, I'm told that my mother used to say that it was healthy to cry sometimes. I'm sure my Father disagrees.

 

 

 


	4. You're My Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz gets home from Christmas break and makes a decision. They sound like love letters to me, but...........

Dear Simon,

I said I wouldn't be glad to see you again. I said I wouldn't miss you over the break. I said I'd be okay without you. I said I hated you and didn't want you in my life. 

I meant it.

But- I walked into our room today- and you were sitting at your desk- your eyes were squinted and you were looking at a newspaper, your beautiful bronze curls were falling into your eyes and you were biting your lip in concentration.

It was all so familiar, but fresh somehow. Walking in there and _knowing_. Knowing I'm in love with you.

It almost made me happy.

And when you looked up at me and immediately frowned, snapped something, and then grabbed the newspaper and rushed out, it hurt less than before.

_I'm in love with Simon Snow._

Your bright blue eyes, golden locks, the way you stand, like you're always in the middle of a battle, and the only time you really relax, when you're comfortable. When you're _home._

You're _my_ home, Simon Snow.

I'll take it. This is what I get.

This room smells like you. Smoke and power and magic.

I want to crawl into your bed every night and hold you close to me. I want to kiss you, every time I see you. I want to hold your hand, squeeze it in mine, or hold it to my cheek, every time you're angry or sad or hurt.

Instead I just hurt you.

It's okay, Simon. You'll live through this, even if I don't.

I know now, I know......my place. The part I play. Someday you'll win and I'll lose, because I couldn't stand it any other way.

But it's all right, Simon, because......I love you.

I learned my lesson last year, I'll make sure this story ends the way it's meant to be.

I'm home.

Love, Baz


	5. Tell Me Your Secret, Simon Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon's looking for the six hares, and do you think Baz won't notice?

Dear Simon,

What are you doing? I notice, the way I watch you, I'd have to notice.

I know you're not studying, even Simon Snow can't study that hard and still look that confused in class.

I know you're sneaking out at night, I hear you and even before, I can tell when you aren't asleep.

I know that you've started ignoring even Bunce and Wellbelove, I really want to be happy.

But I'm worried.

I wish you would tell someone your secret, you're not up to this.

I'm sure you have some noble reason why you don't want to put them through it, but you're being an idiot, Snow.

You could ask me. I'm not so fragile.

I wish I could be a person you'd share secrets with.

Love, Baz

 


	6. Come Back to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head near the end of every year.

Dear Simon,

Every year, you do this. Every year, it hurts so bad.

By now I think we all expect it. The adventure, the duel, the fight only you can win. You disappear for a little while, and when you come back you know something we all don't.

Lately, it’s worse. It's harder. You really seem gone.

I can't play my violin, so I just slip down to the Catacombs, hunt, and then smoke, playing with the idea of pushing the cigarette to my chest and going up in flames, right next to my mother’s grave.

I know you'll come back. You always do.

We all go back to believing in you.

Hate or love, we all believe in you, Simon.

But we're all wrong. None of us knows who you are.

Blazing and gold, the hero with a sword in his hand and the kind of magic that makes you drunk crackling under your skin.

Soft and scared, hiding and alone and torn apart by the world.

Stupid and foolishly brave, a pawn with power wasted.

Sometimes I think that we're all afraid that you'll leave someday, and you'll never come back.

Sometimes I think it's just me.

~~Come back to me, Simon.~~

Come back.

Don't let it end today.

Love, Baz


	7. Alone

Dear Simon,

I'm always alone.

I like being alone, it's safer and it's right.

My whole family is alone all the time. Without my mother. Without our honor.

Without even each other. We are strong and perfect and beautiful and unattainable, but we're too afraid to be honest.

When my father brags about me, he never mentions that I'm as dead as my mother and as queer as I could be.

 _Nobody needs to know what's in your heart, Basilton_.

That never bothered me until I met you.

Alone and strong is how I should be, but you always made me want to know you, be close to you.

Hold you next to me, curl into you and make you understand me.

So of course I made you hate me.

I'm a mess, Simon.

I'm twisted, worse than you could ever know.

I chose being alone, knowing that no one will ever know my tragedy.

Everyone will know your story, Simon, but sometimes, you seem so alone too. Maybe we could be complete together, Simon. I wish we could be, but if I had you I wouldn’t know what to do.

I don't know anything.

Maybe I'll bury these letters, before the time comes when I have to die, and maybe someone far away after all of this ends will find them.

Someone who doesn't expect me to be anything. Maybe they'll read them, and they'll understand, maybe they'll see something and they'll believe in us more than you or I.

Or maybe they'll laugh.

I'd laugh.

Love, Baz


	8. Nightmares and Daydreams

Dear Simon,

What would it be like, to kiss you?

I try not to think about it, or I usually do, but when you're miles away, and I'm lying awake in my bed, I can't help but imagine.

I've seen you kissing someone, but it wouldn't be like that with us.

So perfect, so controlled, like a fairy tale or a picture book.

No, with us it would be messy.

But it would be good.

I know that.

You have perfect soft lips, and warm skin, and all those moles, and I can almost feel your ridiculous curls, and your eyelashes.

And I won't think about your tongue.

Kissing you, would be a battle.

But I'd willingly fight.

I'd fight forever, for you.

Love, Baz

 


	9. Secrets and Scattered Papers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon is angry, he decides to start throwing things around............shoebox at the top of Baz's closet....see where I'm going with this?

**Simon**

That's it. I'm done.

I'm sick of wearing this stupid tie and talking to people's parents, and I'm tired of Baz and his stupid comments.

Why didn't I just stay in my room?

As soon as the Mage takes a break from parading me around, I slip away, ignoring Penny and Agatha with her 'let's be friends, it's just a break'. I can't talk to their parents anymore, I can't keep pretending that Agatha didn't dump me, and I can't stand her leading me on.

When I get to the tower, I slam the door behind me, panting, and stare around the room. Inspiration strikes me suddenly when I see Baz's laptop lying closed on his bed.

I try to hack it, but of course all my spells are shit, and then I just give up, and throw it.

It hits the wall with a satisfyingly painful snapping sound, and then I'm just going crazy.

My sword ignores the summons, so I just kick his nightstand, breaking his lamp and tearing through his homework.

I get to his closet, and start throwing clothes around. He has stupid posh sweaters and suits, and everything is so pressed and clean.

I'm breathing hard, and I can't quite see, but my heart is beating and I feel adrenaline coursing through my veins. Anyway, it's better than going off.

Finally, I start grabbing things down from his closet.

He has so many books and spells, and books……

And then I must hit something in just the wrong, (or right?) way, because a shoebox falls from the top of his closet, and hits me in the head.

Papers fall everywhere, and I swear loudly.

I’m ready with a smirk to see whatever he was hiding, and then I see a photo.

It’s a woman with a baby in her arms, and it takes me a second to recognize his mother.

Natasha Grimm-Pitch. She’s holding what must be Baz next to her face, and she looks like she’s smiling at someone just behind the camera with a glint in her eye.

Even as a baby, his skin is browner than now, and his cheeks are red. He's laughing with his fist wrapped around her finger.

Suddenly, I feel sick, and I just want to clean this mess up, because what was I thinking?

I try not to look at the papers strewn all over the floor, but then something catches my eye.

  ' _Dear Simon.'_

I lean down, and pick the letter up.

I squint at it for a second, and when I read it my stomach drops to the floor.

**Baz**

I stay down talking to my family and their friends for as long as I can, but finally the party gets too exhausting, and I make up an excuse to go up to my room. Fiona winks at me, and I have the urge to give her the finger, but instead I just raise an eyebrow and smirk. My father has been watching me too closely all evening.

Snow's probably still talking to the Wellbeloves, though I haven't seen him since he got upset about some crack I made, and I might as well get some work done.

I feel tired and drained on the way up the stairs, and I realize how hard it's going to be to slip away to feed with everyone's family's here.

Finally I get to the tower, but I think I can hear Snow in there, being much quieter than normal. I stand there for a while, listening to him and considering my options, but decide to go in.

My first instinct is anger, and then shock, when he looks up at me and I see what's in his hand.

My heart stops.


	10. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Simon is confused, Baz deals very badly with his feelings, and I am sorta kinda sad to end this.

**Simon**

I read it seven times before it makes any sense, and then it makes too much sense.

It's like being hit by a truck, and all I can do is read it over and over again.

And when I hear the door open, and he walks in, I'm already too confused and I just stare at him while I watch his face go from anger to shock to something that doesn't make sense on his face.

Like I just ripped out his heart.

For a moment, we just stare at each other.

"Baz.... I-I"

It seems to jerk him back to reality, and his face twists into anger until he's spitting at me.

"Snow. What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!! Going off and almost killing someone every time you get pissy isn't enough? You have to throw a tantrum like a _f_ _ucking_ toddler, too? Or did I make you angry, because the poor Mage's Heir can't stand people talking to his perfect, angelic Agatha?"

He's breathing hard, and sneering at me, but he's not as scary as he usually is.

"Baz- I read your letter."

He gives me a look of pure hate, then turns away and looks at the floor.

"Go with your girlfriend, Snow. Talk to her parents, they love you. We can pretend this never happened. I promise."

He sounds bitter, and defeated, but mentioning Agatha, again, is too much.

"Shut up!" I shout at his back, and then, struggling to keep my voice under control, "Seriously Baz, shut up. We are going to talk about this, you're not going to mention Agatha, and you are going to stop lying to me."

As soon as I say it, I realize that I'm genuinely angry at him, but I'm not even sure why anymore.

He doesn't seem surprised by my outburst, he just keeps staring at the ground, and when he talks his voice is hollow and tired.

"You don't want me to tell the truth. You never did. So get the fuck out of here, or I swear I will attack her, and I will drain every drop of blood from her veins. We don't talk. I hate you, and you don't pity me. I'm a monster."

_Jesus Christ he's unbearable._

I grab his arm from behind, and jerk him around until our faces are centimeters apart, ready to yell at him, or something, barely conscious of whether this violates the Anathema, and then I see his face.

He's crying.

Just a little, but it's enough for me to let go, and he backs away from me, looking like a wounded animal, until he's against the wall, staring at me with tears streaming down his face.

I don't know what to _do_ with this situation.

"....Baz."

"Shut up!!!! Shut the bloody hell up!! I told you to leave!" He charges me, looking slightly deranged, and I catch his arm.

"You don't want to hurt me."

He's seriously crying now, and he just pushes me away and retreats back into the corner.

"I could kill you. I would kill you."


	11. Tears

**Baz**

 I’m sitting on the ground now, my head in my arms, my knees pulled up to my chest, panting. I feel like a tiny kid throwing a tantrum, but I don’t even care anymore. I just want him to leave.

 For once, I can barely hear anything beyond my own breathing, but I think I can make out footsteps and then a door closing.

  _Good._

I picture him running down the stairs, horrified and amused. I try not to think about the look he gave me when I walked in. It was like he was seeing beyond me, somehow. Or maybe like he was really seeing me.

 I picture him meeting Wellbelove downstairs, or my family.

 I think I’m choking.

 All I can see is his face. Golden skin. Bright blue eyes. Ridiculous curls and a constellation of moles, those soft pink lips. Bright red cheeks. Face flushed with blood and emanating magic. Power and life.

 And then I feel something.

 I look up quickly, and then, just as quickly, I try to look down, but his hand flies out and he tips my chin up until I’m staring into his eyes.

 Bright and blue.

 I could fight it, but I don’t. I’m just not that strong.

 Instead I stare at him while his eyes search my face.

 I try to hold my breath for that moment when we’re both still, but he notices, and he starts wiping the tears from my face.

 He’s kneeling on the ground next to me, reaching out, and I don’t even care why he came back.

 I’m just so glad when he pulls me to him and lets me sob into his shoulder.

 It feels so good.

 Finally, I pull away, and he looks a little embarrassed, but he doesn’t look away. He just stares at me, looking a little bit like he’s searching for something, until I finally grab his hand.

 I’m not sure why I do it, but he squeezes it, and then, gloriously, runs his other hand hesitantly through my hair. He watches it slip through his fingers with an oddly satisfied look on his face, and then he uses his hand to draw me closer, and gives me another piercing stare, but this time, he seems happy.

 “ _Baz…._ ” He breathes my name softly, and it feels like a secret.

 Or maybe a spell.

 He squeezes my hand, and pulls me closer with that, too, until our knees are knocking against each other and our noses are almost touching.

 I don’t know what’s happening.

 “Baz……..” He whispers again, even quieter, except this time I know it’s a question.

 “Yes.” At first I don’t even know whether it was too quiet to hear, but then he nods, and he doesn’t smile, but there is _something_ in his eyes when he closes the distance between us...........and presses his lips against mine.

 Something strong.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas, by the way! I'm wondering whether anyone will post. Anyway, hope you enjoy the penultimate chapter.

**Simon**

 

I don't know why I kissed him. We were just so close. He looked- just.....so vulnerable, and I wanted to hold him. I wanted to make it okay. And I wanted....I _wanted_ to kiss him.

And now....It's all too perfect and messy to bear.

It's all too _much._

The cold fire of his lips and the soft grey marble of his skin, brushing against mines, so impossibly wrong and right. His hair and his eyelids and his eyelashes. His chin, pushing carefully against me, his hands playing me like a violin.

Not just him. Me.

My hair gold against his black, tawny and freckled against pale and white.

He's being so careful, pressing against me and holding me so gently in a way I could never have imagined.

_Baz._

But I'm going crazy. Breathing hard and gasping whenever I can tear away. Pushing and pulling at him, our lips together in a flurry of kisses that make me question everything. I run my hands through his hair, clenching my fist and splaying my fingers in it. I remember my tongue and then I'm sucking and kissing his neck, and when he lets out a moan, I try to get him on the bed.

When his head hits the pillow, he pushes me off, gently, and I hate myself for letting out a whimper, but he smiles.

He sits up, and grabs my hand.

His cool grey eyes are piercing me, and I don't know what is wrong with me, but I can't look at him anymore without wanting to reach out and touch him.

"Simon. I want to continue this.." He smirks, and it makes me a little glad to see him looking like himself. "But..." He puts his hand on the back of my neck, slowly. "I could hurt you. We need to stay away from...your neck. And maybe my neck. Also, I don't want..." He looks scared again, and his hand slips down to my shoulder.

"I don't want you to pity me. And I don't want you to be scared of me. Don't do this...if you think you have to. I wouldn't hurt you like that. I...."

"You never would." I don't know why I say it, but it seems important, and I feel a little angry.

"Baz," I wrap his hand around my waist, and hold it, but he doesn't try to pull away. "I kissed you because I wanted to. I didn't think I had to. I know...I know you wouldn't hurt me. You wouldn't hurt anyone. And....I don't want to stop. Not after today, not after tomorrow, I'm not going to let you pretend anymore. I'm not going to let myself." I push my forehead against his, gently, and make sure he doesn't look away. His eyes make me remember what to say next.

"Please don't let go of me."

He smiles, and his lips find mine.

"You never made so much sense, Snow."

I only let him kiss me for a second before I pull my head back.

"Simon."

He stares at me.

"Simon." He agrees, and I kiss the smile off his lips.

 

 

 


	13. Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what this is, but I want to thank everyone who read my first fic. Take it as a late Christmas present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad for not having posted in two days. I had a spot of trouble. Also, I finished Eleanor and Park exactly this time last night, and I'm still crying.

  It's cold outside, and Baz is colder, but I kiss him anyway, until my lips are numb. He tastes like gin, and when it's finally too much, he carries me to our room, which is ridiculous and romantic, and when I tell him so, he tries not to smile. When we're there, I try to get him with me on my bed, but we're both drunk, even if I'm more so, and he keeps pulling away after a few kisses. Sometimes I think he just wants to make me want him, and I let him because I always want to prove that I like him just as much as he does.

  He doesn't believe me, but it's true. It _has_ to be true, because I've never, ever, liked someone like I like Baz. I used to think maybe I just wanted him, but now I know that's not possible because everything about him makes my heart jump and ache and flutter. He's like fire. Cool fire, and he's the most beautiful thing I know. When I look at Baz, I don't think that I've ever liked anyone else at all. Definitely not Agatha, but I don't like to think about Agatha.

  Finally, he crawls into bed with me, but by then I'm too drowsy to keep him up all night, so I just lay my head on his chest, and I fall asleep listening to him breathe. I always fall asleep before Baz, even if I try to stay up, but I'm too tired even to make him close his eyes. Maybe I'll wake up before him, and then I can watch him, which sounds creepy but isn't, and I can see what he looks like when he's not thinking so hard. Maybe, if he sees me watching him the way I do, he'll finally believe me.

  He doesn't know how much I like him, but he will.

                                                                                                                                  #

  He's sweaty and hot, and the way he kisses me is almost desperate. Desperate for me. _Simon Snow is desperate for me_.

  It feels so good that I can't think. It feels right, and perfect, and also it doesn't feel so fragile. It feels like it will last forever, and I want to believe that it will, but instead I just don't think.

  I focus on him, how I could never hurt him and how I will always protect him.

  How good everything feels with him.

  I can't see or feel anything else. Nothing but Simon Snow, golden skin and moles and pink lips and a flushed face. Tangled curls with my hands in them, and hands that make me feel like everything is always okay, and like they'll never let go.

  It's dark, but I can see him, and he holds on to me like he'll get lost if he doesn't. And maybe just like I'm the only thing.

  I start to think that maybe, just maybe it will last.

  For the first time, I fall asleep before him, and he holds me in the dark like I'm something that needs to be protected.

  Like I'm his.

                                                                                                                                #

  "Are you sure?" They're lying on the grass, and they're supposed to be looking at the stars, but Simon has been distracted for ages, and she finally knows why.

  "Yes." He's lying on his side, looking at her with a look on his face that almost breaks her heart. Her head is turned towards him, and he stares at her like what ever she says might really, really, matter. Like it's the most important thing. He also looks like he thinks she might slap him, or run away.

  She smiles.

  "Good. You should be." She reaches out and grabs his hand before she looks back at the stars. Simon can't help but think that she looks comfortable there, and natural. She looks like she's exactly where she's supposed to be.

  He smiles at her, and even if she can't see it, she can feel it.

  "You know, I love you, Penny." He squeezes her hand when he says it, and she feels happy and sad at the same time.

  "I know, Simon."

                                                                                                                                #

  "Ummm.....Snow?"

  "..."

  He's turned away from me, and when he hears me, his back tenses. I try not to bite the inside of my mouth.

  "....Simon?"

  I sound nervous and out of control, like a house of cards tumbling down.

  "What."

  He sounds angry in a way I've barely seen before. He sounds like a closed door.

  "I...ahhh....I'm sorry. For what I said earlier, that is, I didn't think it would bother you so much." I force the words out, because, honestly, I'm not sure what I said. I just want it to be okay.

  "..."

  I can't stand looking at his back anymore. I think I might get hysterical.

  "Simon....look at me. Please look at me. I'm apologizing, I can't- I can't stand you being angry. At least- At least say something. You're.....scaring me." I feel hopeless, and I hate myself almost as much as I hate the idea of standing here like this a second longer.

  "Git."

  I don't no why, but this is the last thing I expected him to say. It's ridiculous, because he's called me that a thousand times, but after a month or so it sounds wrong in his mouth, somehow.

  "........."

  "If you're going to apologize, do it properly. Don't say you're sorry I mind, say you're sorry for being an arsehole." He snaps, and I'm relieved even if he is angry, because at least he's talking.

  "....."

  "Well?"

  I stare at the ground and try to apologize.

  "I'm sorry, Simon. I'm an arse, and I said said something shitty. I...I would never mean it, because I'm not ashamed of you. I...I love you, and..I would kiss you in front of anyone, honestly, I should-"

  "What?" He sounds a little alarmed, and it takes me a moment before I get it. What I said.

  My eyes fly up to meet his. He's staring at me now, and his eyes are huge.

  I hate this day. It's been nothing but crap.

  "Um." I sound daft. I sound like a blabbering idiot. I feel like everything is crumbling around me.

  "I- I'm sorry.... I didn't mean it." Of course I say the stupidest thing, because Simon is getting up, walking towards me, and I have the sudden urge to run away from him.

  He's right in front of me now, staring at me, and he kisses me before I can think.

  Because of course he does. He's Simon Snow.

  He always has to prove I don't know him as well as I think.

  The kiss is nice. It's the nicest kiss we've ever had, because normally we're not _nice_. We're a lot of things, we just tend to be too much to be nice.

  I don't know what it means but I give him everything because I'm Baz Pitch, and I'm actually quite predictable.

  When he comes up for air, he whispers something, or maybe he just mouths it, because even I can't hear.

  "What?" I might be just a bit too quiet, but he can tell I'm saying something, and he looks into my eyes and says it.

  "Me too, Baz."

  And then he laughs, and I'm scared when he pulls away from me and goes to sit on his bed again.

  I'm so damn confused. 

  "That sounds stupid. I mean, like I don't want to say it." He runs his hand through his hair. "I-" He stands up again, and I think, for a second, that he looks a little crazy.

  "I love you, Baz. I love you, and here I am upset about something stupid and...."

  "It wasn't stupid." It feels important to say it, even though what I should really be doing is running up to him and catching his hands. Because it's true. Because he was right.

  "You were right, I should have listened to you, I should have known you'd want...to talk to them. To come. I...I think about myself too much, I think." I say it quickly, and awkwardly.

  He laughs.

  "I love you, Baz. And- and you think about others plenty, you think about me plenty. You- I- I mean, I don't have to. I understand. I just feel, like....like I want you to be real."

  I laugh.

  "What?"

  "We don't have to talk to them now. It's okay. Just.....someday, right?" He sounds earnest, and sweet.

  ".......someday." It's a promise, and it makes it right.

  "Ok."

  "Okay."

  "You can smile now, you know, you don't have to be angsty _all_ the time." He's back to egging me on, with a glint in his eye, and he looks perfect standing a few feet away from me.

  Too far.

  "Shut up, Snow. I don't angst." I smirk when I say it, because I think it's a lie, and I raise an eyebrow because I think he likes that. 

  He does.

#

  They walk outside into the snow hand in hand. Baz laughs at his own jokes 12 times and Simon groans 13 times. 

  Baz calls the love of his life an idiot 5 times, and he says that he loves him once, but he means it at least a hundred.

  Simon kisses his boyfriend 29 times, and he wants to kiss him 50 times.

  Simon says that he loves Baz 3 times.

  Baz only really believes him once, but it's enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Kisses.


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